Originally from August, but where I’m at, once again…
Goes along with my other recent post, Comfort.
Comfort comes in the strangest of forms.
I’ve found it in a hug, a listening ear, a silent place.
A stranger’s kind words, the remembrance of a happy time, the sight of a butterfly.
A deep breath, loud sobs, a soft bed.
The warm sun, a splatter of black paint, the feel of computer keys.
A child’s voice, a dog’s fur, the smell of tangerines.
The passage of time, a cool breeze, the right song.
A pretty dress, ice cream, a tattoo.
A children’s book, a long drive, another’s story.
The feel of burlap, a deep purple bruise, the same movie.
A whispered prayer, a slew of curse words, a hopeful fantasy.
Midnight, knowing time zones, a fading scar.
Sometimes it’s comforting to tease out the pain, to tear my heart open and let the blood gush.
Pushing and prodding until it’s intolerable and I pass out from exhaustion.
Other times it’s comforting to avoid…
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